Diseased
by Kodukadvakch
Summary: He had chosen to stay. He had known it wouldn't be easy, but still, did Slade have to make everything so... awkward? When hatred and desire clash in unexpected ways, Robin is left doubting his own certainties. Slade/Robin. AU, Apprentice Arc.


**AN:** I realize the Apprentice Arc has been widely overdone, but I couldn't resist re-writing it in my own words, with my own take. I'm aiming for something lighter - a story with all the issues this plot digs up, but with an air of humor and romance to it, as well. Hopefully, this story will bring something new to the table~ Pairing is Slade/Robin, eventually, but you'll find that I like to take my time. Rated T for excessive cussing - the rating may go up later. R&R.

**Playlist:** Diseased [Seether]

* * *

**Prologue  
**&**  
Chapter 1  
**

_Sparring, and A Test  
_

_-  
_

Leave your mark under my skin  
Oh my how strong you are  
And feast your eyes on my disdain  
And hope this one won't scar

_Diseased_ by Seether

_

* * *

_

There was madness in his eyes.

It had always been apparent, but Robin had never before realized the extent of such depravity.

The armor around his neck clicked into place, fitting a little too snugly for his tastes, but his current show of fashion was of little consequence at that moment.

Robin didn't have time to think.

He barely had time to feel.

_"You'll learn to like it."_

Slade was _mad_, and now Robin was the willing captive of a psychopath.

_I know why the caged bird sings._

His thoughts were a jumbled mess, a stew of unimportant facts, and of flashes wrought of hours (or days?) gone by.

When the last piece of armor snapped into place, the Boy Wonder stared out into the darkness beyond. It surrounded him, _choked _him, and some innate sense within his innocent mind clung to the ray of light he stood inside. It was a ring of illumination, brightness, and it chased away the darkness in a familiar manner. Only, those dangerous creatures of the night still prowled around along the perimeter, stalking along unseen, unheard. The light held a taint to it, too; it had been _given _to him by that... that _monstrosity_.

The moment he had agreed to Slade's deal, he had been waved off and told to change in a corner of the room that held not a flickering candle to its name.

"I need a light," he had said sulkily.

"What do you say?" came Slade's taunting reply.

"I need a light, _now_."

"Try again."

Robin had gnashed his teeth together in frustration.

"Please?"

It had been said barely above a whisper.

"What was that?"

Robin knew full well that the bastard had heard him.

"I. Need. A. Light. _Please_."

Only, the 'please' had sounded more like 'fuck off'.

He had gotten his light, meager as it was, and he had been thankful that that little ordeal was over.

One hour down. Only the rest of his life to go.

When he had finished dressing, Slade had emerged from the creeping shadows, his intimidating form breaking away from the darkness like a hunter prowling its prey. Robin had vaguely wanted to ask him if he had been watching the whole time, and if he had enjoyed the show, but was honestly too afraid of the answer. It sounded funny and appropriately sarcastic in his head; coming from his mouth, it would have sounded nothing but _terrified_.

Robin was a hero, a fighter, and he wouldn't show fear even in the worst of circumstances.

But that didn't mean he didn't _feel _it.

He had given the ultimate sacrifice for his friends - _himself_. Though he felt angry and bitter towards the man who had put him in such a situation, he could not - _would not_ - feel any remorse over his decision. He knew things wouldn't be easy, and he also knew that the image of who he once was would be torn down and trampled on, only to have this new face, this new identity, paraded before his friends' eyes. It would burn them, it would hit them where it hurt the most, but even though he knew his 'apprenticeship' would leave them feeling confused and hollow, at least they would still be _alive_.

Robin clung to that.

It was all he had left, after he had sold himself away.

_And they cast their lots upon the grey, grey earth_.

He didn't know what would happen to him, but at least his friends were safe.

The light shut off suddenly, leaving him in pitch darkness, and a slow shudder traveled down his spine. He didn't like the dark - never had - but he supposed it was just another thing he would have to get used too.

"Don't worry," came a deceptively calm voice from behind. It was far too close for comfort, and left Robin with the searing need to spin around and shake off the tremble that was racing through his body. "I'm here."

That was exactly what he was afraid of.

-

* * *

-

"You're leaning too far to the left. Do it again."

Robin had been 'doing it again' for the past two hours, and he was nearly sick with fatigue and anger. The training was boring, monotonous, and besides that fact, his nerves were completely shot. Standing in such close proximity to a man bigger, stronger, and swifter than him, and who had attacked him without cause on various occasions, did not bode well for his psyche. His instincts told him to lash out, but every time the inkling of that idea crept into his head, Slade would flash that cursed little button in his face, and tell him to start over.

They were working on fluidity of movement, and had been stretching out their muscles and performing various Tai Chi exercises since eight that morning.

Robin had no idea what time it was now, but his stomach protested that it was well past noon (They - and by 'they' he meant 'Slade' - had decided to forgo breakfast in order to get a jump start on training that day.) and despite what his teammates thought about his driving nature, the Boy Wonder wasn't used to pushing himself with something so... _bland_.

Secretly, he had thought training with Slade would be exciting, in its own right. A harrowing ordeal, and painful in every sense of the word, but exciting nonetheless. Instead, it turned out that the villain was displeased with Robin's current form of martial arts, and had decided to teach him a more violent, effective style. One he had invented on his own.

The raven-haired teen could have rolled his eyes at the sheer arrogance of the man.

Going about learning this new style took a lot out of him, though, and after about half a week passed where Robin was getting his ass seriously kicked, Slade had halted all progress and told him they were starting from scratch.

Which was exactly why Robin had just spent three hours perfecting the ability to throw a decent right hook while still holding the solid base of his foundation - driving back, yet preventing his own stance from being compromised. He wasn't used to such an upfront battle tactic. He used the litheness of his frame as an advantage, flipping and weaving around his enemies to deliver swift, calculated blows.

He threw another punch towards Slade. Number one-thousand twenty-two; he had been counting - he was that bored. He was surprised, however, when his fist was caught and bent at an excruciating angle, causing him to stumble a few steps forward, nearly colliding with the older man's chest. Slade side-stepped out of the way just in time, though, and used his grip on Robin's arm to toss the boy forward and onto his knees.

Robin scrabbled at the ground for a moment, then jumped up from that vulnerable position and twirled around to glare at Slade angrily.

"Pay attention," the man rebuked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That wasn't _fair_."

"I never said it would be."

Ruthless, conniving, son of a--

"Again."

"Unlike _you_," Robin protested, hesitating to follow orders. "_I_ need to eat eventually."

"You ate yesterday."

Was that a joke, or was Slade really that cruel? The world may never know...

The teen blanched.

"You can't just starve me like this!"

Which was, obviously, the wrong thing to say.

Slade took a step forward, using his superior height to his advantage as an easy intimidation tactic. Robin, to his credit, didn't back down when the masked villain leaned forward until they were eye-to-eye, but instead stubbornly stood his ground.

"Oh, but Robin, I _can _and I _will_, if you insist on treating me with such disrespect." His words were low, seductive in their own right. "Have you forgotten so easily that I _own _you?"

Slade did, in fact, have a super power. He had the uncanny ability to make everything he says sound like a sexual innuendo.

"You don't--!"

"Or have you finally decided to trade your friends lives for you own?"

And there was that damnable trigger again, held right up in Robin's face. The man was tempting him, _daring _him to take it, but the Boy Wonder knew it was a test - a test he would fail.

"I... no. Don't. I'll do whatever you say. Just... don't."

The bitter taste of defeat was like bile in his throat, but he really didn't have any other choice. He would give up his own life before risking that of his friends'.

"Good boy."

Robin nearly _snarled _at the degrading compliment, but held his anger in check.

Slade tucked the button back inside some hidden compartment in his armor, then turned towards his unwilling apprentice.

"What do you say?"

_Fuck you, you fucking son of a bitch. I'll get you some day you bastard, and you'll regret ever having dared to threaten my--_

"Thank you."

"'Thank you' _what?_"

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.

"Thank you... Master."

-

* * *

-

He had been given food, eventually; hours after he had pushed himself past the point of exhaustion, but in the very least he now had some form of sustenance to keep him going. It was meager, though, and for a fleeting moment he wondered if he should ration it, hide a portion away, just in case Slade decided to pull off another stunt like the one he did today. His stomach growled in protest, and his logical mind told him that there really wasn't anywhere he _could _hide it. The small room (more cell-like than anything else) held no objects that could be used as a weapon, every wall smooth and blank. It was surprisingly immaculate, but so very _empty_. All stone and concrete and the distant grind and whir of gears.

He finished off his meal quickly, guzzling up the mug of water he had been given with desperate gulps.

When he had first arrived there, sent to this very room to brood and scowl for God-knew how long, one of his first thoughts had been that of the sheer surreal quality of his surroundings. Wherever he was, it was ageless, timeless - the passage of night and day meant little when he wasn't allowed to witness either events occur. It had been hard, those first days, because the sense of disorder was positively _maddening_.

It had taken a comment from Slade to make him realize it had all been a test.

The older man had walked in on Robin one day, staring down at him smugly as the boy scratched out pointless circles on the concrete floor.

"So. You still haven't figured it out?" he had asked, then unceremoniously dropped the tray of food he had been holding to the floor. The food tipped and spilt over the side of the bowl, but remained on the tray, and so was still edible.

Robin had jerked his head up to glare at the man, but was only met with the other's back as he strode out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

If the Boy Wonder hadn't known any better, he might have thought Slade was _disappointed _in him.

... But because that train of thought followed directly along the path of the madman's recent actions, Robin allowed himself to ponder _why _he might be disappointed.

And had come to the conclusion that he had been too busy sulking (not his fault, not his fault!) to notice the real mechanics behind those gears he heard clicking throughout the lair every day. They weren't just for decoration. They were used to tell time.

As soon as Robin realized this, his life had fallen into a comforting sort of pattern. What had once seemed illogical and chaotic soon became familiar and intelligent. Every 'morning', Slade would wake him up and take him for a sparring session, and to warm up. After three clicks of the largest gear, if he was good, the man would usher him back into his room and give him something to eat. One click, and the villain would return, ready to train him in new styles, and drill the practice ones they had warmed up with. Five clicks after that, usually when Robin was fatigued beyond comprehension, Slade would throw some water in his direction, let him take a breather, and then order he continue with where they had left off.

It was only on 'good' days that Robin was fed three meals, and he soon came to realize that those days didn't necessarily depend on Slade's mood. It was entirely based on the boy's own progress, and how well he had treated his 'Master' that day.

It was a lot like high school, Robin concluded once. Grueling, monotonous, and done entirely against his will, but he still had to respect the teacher and do his homework so he might have the chance to get out.

Problem was, Slade expected him to graduate with Honors.

The thought of comparing the intimidating man to some wiry glasses-wearing school teacher was enough to send Robin into a fit of laughter. His voice echoed tinnily around the four walls that surrounded him, bouncing back to grate against his own ears unpleasantly.

O-ok.

He blinked, readjusting the glove on his right arm, then flexed his fingers and stared at them for a moment.

He couldn't lose it. He simply _couldn't_. Not now - not here.

If he assumed every time he was woken up counted as a day, then he had only been there for a little over a week. Ten days at best, fourteen at the most. Certainly not long enough to drive a man mad.

_Most men aren't trapped in a confined space with someone like Slade._

That was true, too. It just meant he had to be stronger - had to fight more.

He had agreed to be Slade's apprentice. Not his friend, not his son, and most _definitely _not his lackey. So, the villain wanted to teach him everything he knew? Fine. Robin could deal with that.

He would deal, and then he would turn those tricks right back on the man, and make him _regret _teaching Robin those moves in the first place.

The Boy Wonder smirked, lips twisting upwards in a grimace-smile.

Now that he had a plan, his life felt a hell of a lot more solid.

* * *

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Next chapter due around May 16th.  
**


End file.
